An alarm was immediately given, and horns were blown throughout the city. On account, however, of the lateness of the hour, but few re. sponded to the call; and the press was safely stored in the garret of a substantial stone warehouse without molestation. On Tuesday, no excitement of consequence was apparent; the volunteers, however, abovementioned, met in the evening, and at nine o'clock retired with the exTwo or three came ception of about twelve, of whom Lovejoy was one. in afterward-making the whole force in the warehouse fourteen or fifteen, all of whom were armed.

About ten o'clock some thirty individuals, a part of them with stones, and a part with guns and pistols, approached the warehouse and knocked at the door. Mr. Gilman, from the third story, asked them what they wanted. Mr. Carr, their leader, replied, "the press." Mr. Gilman refused to give it up, and Mr. Carr persisted in demanding it. The assail. ing party thereupon commenced throwing stones into the building, and broke several of its windows. They afterward fired two or three guns into the warehouse, without doing any material injury. Guns were then fired from within among the crowd in the street, and several of the assail. ing party were wounded; and one of their number, a Mr. Bishop, mortally; the assailing party then retired, conveying away their wounded. They afterward returned with an additional force, and attempted to burn the building. It being of stone, a ladder was raised in order to apply the fire to its roof. The person who ascended was fired upon by those in the store of whom Lovejoy was one-the bells in the meantime had been rung, and a large concourse of citizens assembled, and stood inactive spectators of the scene. Several of the assailing party, having concealed themselves behind some wood, as Lovejoy stood without the door, and was in the act of firing upon the man ascending the ladder, he was himself fired upon. Four or five balls took effect-he thereupon went to the counting-room, where he fell and expired. The party within soon afterward surrendered; the victors rushed into the warehouse, the press was thrown out of its windows, and broken in pieces. No other property was destroyed, except a few guns, and no other indignity offered to the deceased. Such was the origin and result of the "Alton tragedy," disgraceful in the extreme to all concerned.

The press was introduced clandestinely into a warehouse, for the alleged purpose of being stored; the warehouse was taken possession of by armed men, and for the avowed purpose of establishing a newspaper by force. Lovejoy was, therefore, an assailant of the public peace; a challenge of defiance had gone forth, calculated to invite and provoke violence-especially after such repeated proofs had been given that there were in that community corrupt and wicked men, of a desperate character, by whom he had already suffered. It appears, also, that after the rioters had assembled, and the press had been demanded, some of the party within fired into the crowd, and one of their number, (Mr. Bishop,) was killed. This, too, was done in the presence of Lovejoy; and prob

ably by Lovejoy himself. The rioters then rallied with arms, and resolved to avenge their companion. One of their number ascended a ladder, evidently to set fire to the warehouse. Lovejoy came out of the house, and was in the act of shooting at the man ascending the ladder, when he was himself shot down. This last murder was the consequence of the first; and both were deserving of the severest reprehension. Had not the inside party armed themselves, no arms, probably, would have been used; had not Bishop been killed, no one would, probably, have been killed. The cause of this rash and desperate measure, was the resolute purpose to compel the people of Alton to submit to Lovejoy's wishes, and to permit him to do as he pleased, on their responsibility, and at their risk. That the mob was in the wrong, is undeniable. They were acting above law, and without law; for the alleged purpose of correcting an evil, for the remedy of which no law had been provided. The party who armed against the mob, were doing precisely the same thing; they were attempting to carry their point by violence, which they were unable to effect by law; and the consequence that followed, was the joint production of both.

Bishop was in bad company; he was one of the rioters; he went into the affray for an unlawful purpose; he knew the desperation of the conflict, and that the lives of all engaged were put in jeopardy; he was concerned in an attempt to promote, by brute force, what could not be visited by the laws of the land. He excluded himself, therefore, from the protection of the law, by uniting with a band of rioters in the commission of an unlawful act; and however we may condemn the man who shot him down, Bishop perished under circumstances that excluded him from the sympathies of those who honor and respect the government of laws, and the constitution under which we live.

An attempt was afterward made to canonize Lovejoy, as a Christian martyr; while Bishop, supposed to have been shot by Lovejoy a few minutes before he fell, had no place assigned him in the public sympathy. Lovejoy was compared to the martyr, Stephen, and his death was said to be vicarious. "Like that of Jesus Christ, he suffered for us," said his eulogists" he died in our stead; when he fell, we fell; when he died, we died." His eulogists, however, seem not to reflect, that he died thirsting for the blood of his enemies-while Stephen prayed, "Lord, lay not this sin to their charge."

Indictments were afterward found against the inside rioters, and they were tried and acquitted. Similar indictments were also found against the outside rioters, and they were tried and acquitted also.

On reviewing the whole subject, it will be seen that Lovejoy, in writing and printing his sentiments, only exercised his civil and moral rights, and had he perished by violence while persisting in the exercise of these rights, without resisting force by force, and rendering evil for evil, he would, indeed, have been a martyr-one whose blood would have cried from the ground against his murderers. Nor would the cry have been.

unheeded; for the moral power of this whole nation would have been concentrated for their arrest, trial, and punishment. Had he died without murderous weapons in his hands-without being stained himself with the blood of a fellow-being; he might, as has already been observed, been a martyr, instead of a victim of his own infatuation.

We have already remarked, that slavery is an evil; that it is injurious to the master and to the slave; and have endeavored to illustrate this position by examples. To illustrate it still farther, compare the States of New-York and Virginia during the revolutionary war; the latter was of much more importance than the former. Its wealth, its population, and its resources, were decisively superior. Their relative situation has since been changed. Compare any of the northern with any of the southern States in the Union, and the result is nearly the same. Massachusetts, in natural resources is inferior to South Carolina. Industry, however, and the character of its population, have rendered Massachusetts, at present, her superior.* Had the African never seen the latter, Charleston, in South Carolina, at this moment would have been equal to Boston-a hundred thousand industrious people would, in all probability, ere this have made it their home. Cincinnati, in Ohio, contains more than sixty thousand inhabitants, and has grown up to its present size since the recollection of many now living. Chicago is equal to Richmond, in Virginia; the former has advanced in ten years more than the latter in two centuries. And there are persons now living, who will see more people in Chicago, than in any city in any slave-holding State in the Union, except St. Louis and New-Orleans; both of which are to derive their future consequence, from the labor and efforts of freemen, rather than of slaves.

Of the enormity of the slave-trade, we have foreborne to speak. It is unnecessary. Of the cruelties practiced, in many instances, upon the slaves, we have foreborne also to speak for the same cause. That there are petty tyrants and despots in America, and elsewhere, who hold their fellow-men in bondage because they love slavery, and its wages, and who would fain perpetuate it to the latest generation, is not denied. These would not liberate their slaves, if every door was open for them to do so; and that there are those among them who would withhold education and the gospel from the helpless victims of their tyranny, even if there were no restraints imposed, either by law or necessity, is perhaps equally certain. Still, the greater part of the slaves at the south, we have no doubt, are treated with kindness and humanity, and their situation altogether preferable to that of free negroes at the north. It is for the interest of the master to treat them kindly; and however corrupt and degraded our nature may be, mankind have not fallen so low, as to inflict unnecessary cruelties without end or aim.

* In Massachusetts, more than one-half of its whole population, men, women and children, are producers; that is, each of them earns something more than his own support. In South Carolina, probably not a fifth.

The difficulty in emancipating so many slaves at once, is far greater than many at first suppose. And although advice from the north may be exceedingly useful, we have no doubt, that in order to be effectual, it must be given in a different manner.

Junius says, he never wrote but one letter to the king, and that met with such cool reception he never should repeat it.*

That slavery will, at some time or other, be abolished in this country, we believe. But how, or when, as John Quincy Adams once said, exceeds our comprehension. The abolitionists have shed no light as yet upon the subject. Slaves, however, as well as their masters and all the rest of us, are in the hands of a merciful God. We leave them there. We have perfect confidence in his equity, his wisdom, and his judgment; and believe that the Lord of the whole earth will do right.

Whether the efforts of ultra-abolitionists will increase, or mitigate the horrors of slavery, can be known only to God. Were we, however, at the north, to pluck the beam out of our own eyes, we should undoubtedly see more clearly, and know better how to pluck the mote out of our neighbor's. The experiment, at all events, is worthy of a trial.

Notwithstanding the exertions of many ultra reformers—and that we have had many such of late, all admit-the world is now, and we fear it will remain for many years, much as it was when Charles James Fox, the celebrated English orator and statesman, in his melancholy mood, said:

""T is a very good world that we live in,

To lend, or to spend, or to give in

But to beg, or to borrow, or get a man's own-
'Tis the very worst world that ever was known."

We intended, at first, to have spoken of the legislation of this State more at length, and of its judiciary, and to have suggested our views upon each. We find, however, the subject is too vast and too complicated, for our means and opportunities. Should this, our first effort, meet with approbation, and a second edition be called for, we will endeavor to do justice to them both.

For the present, we must pass them over, and call the attention of our eaders to the last, and the most important of all political subjects, which at present interest the patriot and the statesman-to wit: debt, taxation, and finance.

*The printer of Junius's letter, it will be recollected, was convicted, fined, and impris oned for a libel.

NOTE I.

Since writing the above, a little pamphlet has been put into the hands of the author, entitled "A Review of Jubilee College," from which the following facts are taken. We give them publicity with great pleasure, not only as an act of justice to "the good old man," who has carried the above institution "in his arms" for several years, but in hopes

that our commendation, humble as it is, may do him some service in this great and important undertaking.

Bishop Chase does not appear, at this time, before the public as a “novus hospes,” (a new guest.) His name has long been familiar to the American people, as the founder of Kenyon college, in Ohio.

Immediately after his appointment to the episcopate of Illinois, he began to solicit aid, in order to establish a college in Peoria county. This object he has since pursued " with a steadfastness of purpose, which has commanded the admiration and confidence of all." Previous to 1839, he commenced a small building for the aforesaid purpose. The want of means, however, prevented its further progress. He thereupon resolved to make one further effort, and with an energy of purpose, scarcely inferior to that of Commodore Perry when he left the Lawrence, in order to bring the residue of his fleet into action, he embarked once more in pursuit of funds.

It is impossible to do justice to "the good old man," without adopting his own words. "By this time," (the fall of 1839,) says he, "I had exhausted all my private funds in travelling, and found myself unable to go on in public improvements; the year was far spent, the winter approaching, and no prospect of finishing the chapel, or of making further advances in the spring.

"To a family who had pledged their all, in leaving Michigan, and coming to Illinois, to build another college, and therefore had sacrificed more than half, the gloomy prospect before them was most distressing. No earthly hope remained; and if despair did not take complete possession of their hearts, it was because of the renewed splendor of that bright star of promise which hitherto had never forsaken them—Jehovah Jireh-God will provide.

"To accomplish this, neither age nor infirmity seemed to stand in the way. My family agreed to this measure, though in tears, that I should leave them again, and undertake, alone, a journey in a very inclement season of the year; a journey suited only to health and vigor."

The "good old man," having thus resolved, started in the latter part of November. The Illinois river was closed with ice, and the only way was to go by land to Alton. On my journey thither," continues the bishop," I stopped at Springfield, where I unexpect edly received, through the Reverend Mr. Dresser, a present from a lady in Pittsburgh, Virginia, of fifty dollars for my own private use. At this crisis, this seemed indeed a God-send, for it enabled me to send home from Alton and St. Louis, some necessaries for my family."

Having reached Natchez, which is about one thousand miles from St. Louis, he was landed, in a dark night, on a muddy shore; his baggage was taken by some strange porter, followed by himself-climbing a steep hill, some two hundred feet in height, sometimes falling in the muddy, slippery path. Here he was joyfully met by several persons he had educated some five-and-thirty years before, in New-Orleans, and commenced " the good work." From thence he proceeded to New-Orleans. "Here," continues the bishop, "some of the pupils he once taught in that city, when it contained little more than twelve thousand inhabitants, had proved ornaments to society, and their grand-children were brought upon his knees for a blessing."

From thence he proceeded in a vessel, too low to allow him to stand upright in the cabin, and too much encumbered to walk on deck, to Charleston, South Carolina. He arrived there in ten days, and was received with great kindness. He afterward visited Sa. vannah and Augusta, in Georgia, which were "conspicuous in beneficence;" and several gentlemen planters, who "conferred their rich bounties in aid of Jubilee college." He visited, also, Wilmington, in North Carolina, Norfolk and Petersburgh, in Virginia, and a little town in the latter State which we omit, where "God opened the hearts of many to believe, and remember, what their elders seemed to forget,' that it was more blessed to give than to receive." He preached also before" the chief men of the nation, at Washington;" and, although neglected by them, "God opened the minds of men in Washington and Bladensburgh, to do him true and laudable service." We have neither time nor space to